


Dark Bridges

by sarken



Category: Third Watch
Genre: F/M, Juvenilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-03-29
Updated: 2003-03-29
Packaged: 2017-10-07 19:48:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/68574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarken/pseuds/sarken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bosco and Faith meet under the bridge at night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dark Bridges

Sometimes, late at night when no one should be out, he finds her under the bridge. He stands back, watching her as she sits in the back of the pickup and smokes. It's something she never did before. He remembers seeing her the first time.

"Hey," he said, strolling over to her, acting like it was normal to be out at nearly four in the morning. "Can't sleep?"

"Oh, no, I can. I could sleep for years. It's easier not to." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a lighter and a pack of cigarettes, lit one, and took a long drag on it. "The nightmares are too vivid and I just don't wanna take anything to help me sleep, you know?"

He climbed into the back without being invited. Sitting next to her, he gazed out at the river, watching as the water's slight movement made the reflection of the skyline dance. "I didn't know you smoked," he said when she held out the pack and the lighter in offering. He didn't take a cigarette, but he did take the lighter.

"Neither did I 'til a few days ago. Funny, huh? I don't wanna take pills so I take up smoking." She took another drag and exhaled, watching in fascination as the smoke rose into the air. "At least it's not drinking."

Bosco flicked the switch on the lighter and watched the flame, grateful for the excuse for not looking at her. "Yeah, that's...that's good. Heredity and all."

"Yeah," she echoed dully, "heredity and all."

He flicked the lighter off and handed it back to her, looking into her eyes. "But then, no victims, only volunteers, right?" He was throwing her words from years ago right back at her. He never believed them, but they had made an impact and left him unable to forget.

She looked out over the river. "I think I'm gonna have to take that back."

"Hey," he says after joining her in the bed, sitting on the floor and leaning against the side. The cold seeps through his clothes and into his body, a feeling he's become accustomed to these past few weeks.

"Hey." She's smoking again. One hand is busy with the cigarette while the other turns a bottle of pills over and over as she stares down. "I was...I think...can we go back to your place, Boz? I'm tired, Boz, so tired."

"Yeah, me too. Come on." He knows as he stands and hops down, Faith following. Yes, he knows.

"This isn't the answer." She drops the cigarette and uses the toe of her beat-up sneaker to put it out. "Neither are these, so..." She takes the nondescript bottle of nondescript pills and uses all the power left in her body to throw it into the river. She then takes his hand. "What we're gonna do...that ain't the answer, either."

"You're right, it's not," he agrees, squeezing her hand.

"But let's do it anyway."


End file.
